In Time
by live.love.music
Summary: SEQUEL TO DON'T FORGET. Mikayla's back in town, and Mitchie's moved on. Can they ever turn back time and make things go back to the way they were? Mitchie/Mikayla. Demi/Selena.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey y'allllllll. :D How's it hangin'? This is the brand-spankin'-new sequel to _Don't Forget._ I hope you enjoy it!**

Boarding this plane, leaving this life and entering a new—yet old—one, is frightening but exciting at the same time. The last time I was around a plane... well, let's just say that it wasn't my most fond memory. It was the worst day of my life.

Now, here I am, four years later, twenty-one years young, and going back to what I left. To my past. To my—now—future. I'm prepared though. If I see her, I see her. I won't get these feelings rushing back because I'm over it. And she's over it, hopefully. It was a phase in my life that I won't return to. I mustn't return to. She held a piece of my heart. Granted the piece was very large, (practically the whole thing) I'm over it.

I'm going back to live my life the way I need to live it. Get a job. Having graduated college early, I need something to preoccupy myself with. I need to see my mom too. Only seeing her on select holidays isn't quite enough. I miss her; we were close.

So I sit in my uncomfortable plane-seat, and I wait for the flight to end.

--

"Hey, Mom!" I yell excitedly, throwing my arms around her.

"Hey, Sweetie!" She says, hugging back tightly. "Let's get your luggage and get this show on the road so we can get home and just _chill_." I smile when she makes wild gestures with her hands as she says 'chill'. Oh, Mother, how I've missed you and your craziness.

--

It's about a half an hour drive home, but I don't mind. My mom normally fills the silence and makes the ride interesting. She'll tell me all the fun times I missed, trying to catch me up on all the latest gossip floating around the city. "Oh! And, _Karen_! Poor girl. It's a shame, her best friend got her hooked on drugs. She was on an episode of... Damn. What's that show called? Interception? Inter—"

"Intervention?" I suggest.

"Yes! That's it. She was on Intervention. So sad. She's in a rehabilitation center as we speak." To be quite honest, I have no clue who the hell Karen is. There's really only one person I'm anxious to see. But not because I still love her. Just... I want to see how she held up. How she's doing. Don't get me wrong, I've seen and heard her interviews, and I've seen her on T.V., but I want to see her in person.

"So how's...Mitchie been doing?" I ask hesitantly.

"You lasted longer than I thought you were going to. I thought you'd start spewing out questions about her as soon as you saw me!" My mom chuckles and I just look out the window, slightly embarrassed. "Oh, Honey! Are you blushing? I knew you still loved her!"

I whip my head around, meeting her eyes, "I do _not_ love her anymore, Mother! That was _just_ a phase! How many times do I have to tell you?"

She looks hurt, and for a second, I contemplate apologizing, but she regains her composure. "She's fine. She still comes over often. We have dinner every week and we'll normally watch a movie afterwards. She's got a boyfriend too. Henley is the boy's name. He's so very sweet to her. I've invited him over a few times—"

I interrupt without thinking, "You let him in our house?" She looks skeptically at me before continuing.

"Yes. Is there a problem with that?"

"Nope. That's perfectly fine." I say curtly. I wait a few minutes before asking the question that I'm itching to know the answer to, "How long have they been dating?" Apart of me wants to know, but the other part, not so much.

"Three and a half years, I think? Yeah. That seems right."

That's when my heart sank to the bottom of my stomach. _She didn't even think twice about a new relationship._ Six months. I had been gone for only six months and she just jumped into a relationship. So much for not forgetting.

**So that's Chapter One, everybody. It's just kind of a little snippet. I hope you liked it! There will be more soon. Probably this weekend... Leave your thoughts!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Lots of positive feedback... Now that's what I like to see! I'm glad to see people liked it! **

When we arrive at the house, my mom helps bring my luggage and bags inside. Once we get them all in, I start to take them upstairs to my old room. I raise a slightly trembling hand to the doorknob. I don't really know what to expect. Is everything changed and rearranged? Is it the same way I left it four years ago? Only one way to find out.

I turn the knob and see that it's the latter. Everything is _just_ the way I left it. Except, it's a little cleaner thanks to Mom. I leave the suitcases in the middle of the room as I take a look around. I pick up the picture frame off of my desk, a smile playing on my lips. Mitchie and I, arms around each others necks, smiling wildly into the lens. I trail my fingers softly across the glass-covered photograph, smile faltering some, but still there.

I gently set it back down on the desktop. I wander around, feeling almost like a foreigner in my own room. My eyes catch something slightly sticking out of the bookshelf. Just as I'm about to reach for it I hear my mother shout, "Mikayla, come here, please!" I retract my hand, staring at the protruding white paper for a moment longer, and with a huff, I'm headed downstairs.

--

I'm sitting in the kitchen watching Mom cook, just like old times. The phone starts to ring and she goes to get it, "It's fine, Mom, I'll answer it." I hop off the stool and stride to the phone, "Hello?" It's silent for a handful of seconds, "_Hello_?"

"M—uh, Mikayla?" It's been awhile, but I'd recognize that voice anywhere.

"Mitchie."

"Wow. Um... I—is your mom there?" That's _really_ strange. My best friend since childhood, after I've been gone for four years, calls to talk to my _mom._

"She's cooking dinner at the moment, Mitchie... Can I take a message?" This is so very awkward.

"Ye—yeah," she pauses and clears her throat, "Can you tell her I can't make it tonight?" Can't make what?

I pull the receiver away from me and tell my mom, "Mom, Mitchie said she can't make it. Whatever that means."

She turns around quickly, "Aw, why? Ask her."

I sigh and bring the phone back, "She wants to know why."

"Uhh... I'm not f—feeling too well right now." It was believable until she threw in a fake cough.

Without thinking I say, "Faker."

I hear her choke and cough on something, "Wha—how do you know?"

"We were close once." I state bluntly.

"Right. Um, well just tell her I can't tonight, okay? Thanks." And then she hangs up.

She didn't even have the decency to ask of my well-being. Seems that Henley of hers took away her manners. Whatever. I really don't care. "She just tried the fake cough with me, Mom." She turns of the stove and spins around, facing me. Her eyebrows are furrowed and she slouches over the countertop.

"Hmm..." she says, "Maybe she's afraid." Afraid? Of what? I certainly can't be that scary, can I? "Maybe she just doesn't want to see you right now. I mean, I know she's not _not_ coming because of me," Wow, she makes me feel _so_ much better. Not. "It's been awhile, Hon. You've got to get reacquainted. You can't just leave a relationship for four years, come back suddenly, and expect her to _want_ to talk to you. She did love you, you know. It was hard for her."

Whose side is she on? "It was a _phase_, Mom. God, how many times do I have to tell you until you understand that?" I know she's just trying to help, but she's not. She's guilt-tripping me. I'm not in the mood for that. I couldn't help leaving. He's my father, I had to go. It was inevitable.

"Well, Mikayla, it wasn't for her. She _has_ feelings, unlike you. I'm not sure what your father did to brainwash you, but I sure as hell don't like it." She pauses briefly and sighs, "I know he didn't want you displaying your love for one another all over the media, but damn-it! You loved her and it wasn't a phase! Stop making excuses! You're back now, you can fix everything! Your father can't control you any longer."

Great, she's pissed. And when she's pissed, she pushes. And when she pushes, I get pissed. And then a fight erupts. "God, Mom! Just leave it alone! I _didn't_ love her! I was young and naïve! I was stupid an—and it meant nothing!" My first night and I'm already arguing about Mitchie. I knew moving back would be a mistake. My mom doesn't say anything, but looks behind me. Following her gaze, I see Mitchie standing in the doorway. Fuck my life. "What're you—"

She interrupts quietly, "I guess I just didn't truly believe it was you that was back. Now I know I was right. You're _not_ the Mikayla I knew." I stand there, about to speak up for myself, but she beats me to the punch, "Sorry, Angie, but I must be going now." She turns to leave.

"Oh, Mitchie—"

She cuts Mom off, "No, it's fine, really. I'll see you later."

Once the door closes, she yells, "Look at what you did! This is going to be _such_ a mess." And then she goes upstairs, leaving me alone with nothing but my thoughts to surround me.

Last time I checked, _I _was her daughter. Not Mitchie. Why the hell is she siding with her? I did nothing wrong! It's not my fault Miss-got-a-boyfriend-now is so sensitive! It's not my fault she never wrote! It's not my fault she didn't text or call or e-mail! It's not my fault she forgot about me! It's not my fault...

**So, yes, it's short, but they'll get longer as it starts to develop more. Thoughts?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey, hey! Yes, it's that time again! I know, I know, it _has_ been a while. I figured it was time for another update since it's a three-day-weekend. :D Oh, and school gets out June 12th so be expecting more frequent updates. _And_, lastly, if there are some weird errors in this, I had hiccups while writing it and they mess up my typing. I've had them all evening, so it's not like I can just wait for them to end and then type. /:**

"Mikayla, hurry up or I'm leaving without you!"

"I'm coming, Mom, I'm putting my shoes on!" I finish tying my right Converse and head downstairs to the garage.

Mom and I are going shopping today. Nothing like being twenty-one and going clothe shopping with your mom. I get in the car and slip my sunglasses on. She begins to pull out of the garage and driveway before saying, "Put your seatbelt on, Mikayla. I don't need a windshield splattered with my daughter if we get in an accident." That's really disgusting to think about.

"Gee, thanks for the visual." I tell her as I buckle up. "So where are we going?"

"Well," she starts, squinting her eyes at the bright sun then quickly glancing at me, "I'm not sure yet. I was thinking we'd just park downtown and let our feet take us where they will." I eye her suspiciously. She _always_ plans ahead. What kind of crazy plan is up her sleeve?

We come to a stop at a red light, "What's going on?" I ask bluntly. I have a feeling it's something I'm not going to like. "You plan, Mom. It's, like, what you live for."

"I'm not planning anything!" She says defensively. "There may be an extra guest for lunch, but—"

"I can't _believe _you! You invited _her_!?" Ugh! I'm not in the mood for this. At all.

"You know, ever since you've been here, Mikayla, you've been a complete _bitch_ to everyone! I'm tired of it! I'm your mother and you will show me respect!" She continues to drive and yell, "We're meeting Mitchie for lunch," I cringe at hearing her name. I came here wanting to see her and how she's doing, but after that night I got back, three weeks ago, I've changed my mind, "and you're _going_ to apologize. Got it?"

I roll my eyes, "Look, Mom—"

"No,_ you _look," she's now using her stern tone, "Mitchie was torn up over this whole thing—you leaving, coming back and practically calling your relationship with her a lie—the least thing you can do for her is apologize. I'm sick of fighting with my only daughter. You will do what I say and change the 'tude or you're buying the next plane ticket to Canada. I won't have you hurting her when she's finally been happy."

My eyes sting with pre-spill tears, but I just turn to face the window and casually blink them away. "Okay. I'm sorry, Mom."

--

We enter our third store and my mom immediately strolls over to the underwear and bras. I look around the shop, uninterested and bored. My eyes wander across the room in search of something to hold my attention. Then I see him. This _incredibly_ sexy blonde guy. His eyes meet mine and he grins. He _grins_ and it's beautiful.

I saunter over to him, slowly—but not Grandma-slow—trying to look alluring. I examine him further, I see that he works here. He's texting when I get to the counter he's behind. "Can I help you?" He inquires absentmindedly.

"Uh, yeah, I'm Mikayla. I noticed you from across the room," He looks up from his phone and _grins_ again, "What's your name?"

"It's H—"

His name was downed out by the yelling I hear on the other side of the store, "Mik, Honey! Let's go, they don't have the big underwear that you wear to bed! We'll go somewhere else!" Damn you, Mother. Damn you.

My mouth hangs open, I glance to the laughing mystery guy behind the counter. I quickly walk to my mom, grab her wrist, and drag her out of the store. "Could you have been any louder? I don't think the lady in the back heard you!"

"Sorry, Sweetie. I didn't know you were trying to romance someone." She nonchalantly remarks. "I'm sure you'll see him again, whoever he was."

We start to walk down the sidewalk, passing bystanders and dog-walkers and overly-eager children with worn out parents. "I didn't even get his name." I mumbled to myself.

"C'mon, pick up the pace or we'll be late!" Oh right, all hail Princess Mitchie who can't wait alone in a booth for five minutes. Fuck this lunch.

I keep my thoughts to myself as we keep walking. "Where the hell are we going, anyway?" Mom glares at me, "I mean, where are we going, Mother, oh, Mother?"

She smiles, "We're going to this bistro, Smart-Aleck, if you must know."

After a few minutes, my mom stops in front of _Tony's Spaghetti._ I guess this is the place. It's not too small inside, a decent size. The smell of pasta and herbs and spices filled my nose as we entered. Mom talks to the hostess and she points to a table with a bored Mitchie. Mom thanks her and then leads the way to the table, me trailing behind her. "Angie! Finally! I though you—" I step out from behind my mom and Mitchie's smile drops, "Oh. You brought the spawn of Satan with you. Joy." She says unenthusiastically.

"Mitchie," Mom says warningly, "Mikayla has something to say to you. But first, Mikayla, Honey, sit please." I slide into the booth, avoiding eye contact with both of them along the way. Mom sits next to me and sips her water. It's silent for a few seconds before, "Well? What are you waiting for?" She asks me.

I sigh and mumble, "I'm sorry."

"What was that?" Ugh. I wish you would butt-out, Mother.

"Mitchie," I start, looking her in the eyes. They're filled with hope. The same hope I used to see when we were young. She was always optimistic. "I'm sorry that I said... that. I didn't mean it. I was being immature."

A small smile graces her beautiful lips as she says, "Apology accepted."

"There, now didn't that feel good?" Oh, Mom, you have no idea. That smile, _oh_, that smile. That guy's grin has nothing on Mitchie. Of course, I'd never admit that aloud.

Back to being bitchy, I put a scowl on my face, "Yeah, whatever." Mitchie frowns and I immediately want to take back the facial expression and the words that rolled off of my tongue.

--

"Let's go back home and watch a movie. You're in, right Mitch?"

She looks uncertain, then tells her, "Uh, sure, but I'll need a ride. Henley dropped me off here on his way to work."

Mom nods, "Of course, Sweetie!"

They carry on a conversation while we walk to the car. All I can think about is this Henley character. Who is this loser? Why is he driving Mitchie around when she has a car? She doesn't have a brother. No cousins named Henley, either. Think, Mikayla. Mom must've mentioned him before...

"_She's fine. She still comes over often. We have dinner every week and we'll normally watch a movie afterwards. She's got a boyfriend too. Henley is the boy's name. He's so very sweet to her..."_

Boyfriend? That's her boyfriend's name. My heart drops instantly. How could I forget? She had a _boyfriend._ Six months after I left they got together. Who does shit like that? I'm snapped from my train of thought when I hear my name, "Mikayla!" I look up at my mom, acknowledging her speaking to me, "You'll drive Mitchie and yourself to the house and I'll walk to the grocery store for... groceries."

I want to oppose to being alone with Mitchie, but Mom tosses me the keys and I realize we're already at the car and she's taken off down the street. Figures. She would rope me into something like this.

We get in and I start the car and begin driving home. We don't talk. The radio is on and the hosts are announcing someone. I wasn't paying attention until I heard, "_And now we're going to be asking L.A.'s very own Mitchie Torres some very personal questions. Only on MLS-ninety-eight!_"

Mitchie smiles and blushes from embarrassment. "_Okay, we'll start off with the goods. This one is from a fan. Mitchie, are you still friends with your ex-girlfriend?_" I cringe at the word.

Mitchie was hesitant with her reply at first, then answered, "_You know, there's always that person in your life—or in my case—not in your life, that you split with and you just can't settle for being their friend. You'll always want more. __**I'll**__ always want more. So to answer that, no, I'm_—"

I had to change it. I had to. It's too much. I pushed the CD button. Low and behold, Mitchie's newest album fills my ears. She's fucking everywhere. Radio, CD player, the fucking _passenger seat_. I turned the music off and settled for silence.

--

"Mom, where _are_ you?"

We're sitting awkwardly on the couch, the T.V. muted and my cell on speakerphone. "Oh, there was some celebrity—Candy West? Can We West? What was—"

"Kanye West?" Mitchie pipes in excitedly.

"Yes! Him! He was there and the place was_ packed _so I took a cab to the other grocery store farther uptown. I'll be home in, like, an hour. Okay, girls?" I can't believe this woman. Makin' me spend more time with Mitchie. I see right through her little _grocery store_ scheme.

"Okay." We say simultaneously.

"So what do you want to do?" Mitchie asks quietly.

--

"Yeah, and ever since then, I can't look at Miley Cyrus the same way!" Mitchie burst out laugh and I join in. We've been talking about her awkward moments with other celebrities for the past half hour. It's better than talking about Canada. Or her boyfriend. The giggles die down and Mitchie starts talking again, "This has been nice. It's good to see you... even if you're kinda bitchy most of the time." She smirks, tempting me.

"Yeah, it's been good seeing you too," Before I can even stop myself I add, "even if you completely ignored me for four years." Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

"What? How could you say that? I wrote to you _every week_ for a _year_. Did you hear that? A _year_, Mikayla." She spews out her words fiercely.

"That's impossible! I never received a _single_ thing!" I say, my voice rising.

Mitchie gets up and grabs my hand, taking me with her up the stairs. We enter my room and she tells me to sit. I oblige. Mitchie walks over to my bookshelf and pulls a white folded up paper out from between two books. That's the paper I saw three weeks ago. I must've forgotten about it. She thrusts the—now unfolded—paper into my hands, "Read it."

_ Dear Mikayla, 7-28-2009_

_ Hey, Mik! How are you? I'm doing fine here. I miss you. I wish you were here... I also wish you'd write me back, but I guess that's not going to happen, eh? Haha, get it? Eh is, like, Canadian, right? _

_ Anyway, I've been hanging out with Henley. You know... Derrik's friend. He's a really nice guy. He's going to school to be a college history teacher. Weird, I know. But he's really not boring at all. He's funny, he's charming... he's everything a girl could ask for. I know I still love you and everything, I always will, Mik, but, he asked me out. Like, on a date. And I said yes. _

_ Please don't be mad at me. I figured he'd fill the void I've been feeling lately with you being gone. I feel so lonely without you. He makes me smile... I don't smile very often anymore. I've been writing to you for five months. You still haven't written back and this makes me sad. I want to hear from you. God, I sound like a loser..._

_ I hope you're doing well, Love. Like I said earlier, or wrote... whatever you know what I mean... I miss you. I miss you so much._

_ I love you,_

_ Mitch_

I wiped the tears that strayed from my eyes down to my chin. My bottom lip quivers and more pour down my cheeks. I put my head into my hands and just cried. She _did_ write to me. She didn't forget me. Suddenly, I feel a hand on my back, soothing and warm. I try and recompose myself to say, "Mitchie, I had no idea. I'm so sorry."

She leans forward and wraps her arms around my torso. I stiffen at first, then I relax and place my arms around her neck, pulling her in tighter. I miss this feeling. Four years later and I still feel safe and loved in her embrace.

I pull back, a little scared of what I was feeling. I do not miss anything about her.

But she _was_ my best friend... Oh, I might as well face the music; Mitchie was so much more than a best friend ever since day one.

I'm afraid she'll _always_ be more than that no matter what my father tells me. No matter what I tell myself. There will always be that large section of my heart and memories that has her name engraved on it.

--

I'm lying in bed, lights are off, house is quiet. It's times like these that get me in trouble. I start to think. Think about things I don't want to think about. Like a certain singer slash guitarist that may go by the name of Mitchie Torres.

She smelled like vanilla today. I always loved that. It's not like any other vanilla, either. It's different. It's like some other scent mixes with it and makes it ten times better. And her hair; it was curled. She used to hate it curly. She looked gorgeous. Not that that's unusual.

I pick up my phone and go through the names in my address book. **Mitch(:** is highlighted on the screen. I select her name and choose to send a text. I hope she still has this number. **Mitchie? You still awake?** Send. It's only eleven-something, but maybe she fell asleep already.

I'm proven wrong when my phone lights up. **Yeah, can't sleep so I'm writing. What's up? **

I've been wondering about something all day... **Oh? What about?**

She's quick and replies,** Just... things going on in my life at the moment. Now, quit avoiding the question.**

I might as well ask, **When you did that radio show, did you really mean what you said?**

My anticipation builds as the time passes. What if she didn't? What if I'm in over my head? What if she did, but doesn't mean it anymore? What if—She texted back. I open it, **Every word(:**

The butterflies flutter and my heart beats rapidly at just reading it. _There's hope!_ it tells me.

--

I smile graciously at my mom as she walks into the kitchen. "Hey, Mom. I made pancakes and coffee!" I chuckle as she turns around. Her hair is a hot mess and her makeup is smeared a little.

She squints as she looks at me, "What are you doing up?" She asks while pouring a cup of coffee.

"Oh, just decided to get up early today!" I tell her, probably too perkily since she winces.

"At five-thirty?" She adds creme and sugar and takes a seat on the stool next to me.

I glance at her, "Nope. I was up at five."

She nods and then looks at me abruptly, "Okay, who are you and what have you done with my cranky-morning daughter? Hell, you're normally cranky all the time! What's going on?"

I just laugh at her and she eyes me wearily. "Nothing is going on, Mom. I'm just... in a good mood."

"Yes, but _why_?" She pauses, "Ohh, I get it. Who'd you talk to last night? Was it that boy? I though you said—"

I interrupt, "No, no, Mom. I was just talking to Mitchie." I stop and think of how much I really want to tell her, "I think... maybe... I have a chance to win her back?" I can't cease the smile forming on my lips as I think about actually being with Mitchie again. Not being bitter anymore. "I was thinking last night and I know Dad tried to 'fix' me, but you can never stop loving your one _true_ love, Mom. And my one true love is Mitchie."

Mom stares at me for the longest time, then I see it. I see the huge ear-to-ear grin, "Honey, I'm so proud of you! I knew you'd come around! I knew you still loved her!" But then her grin rapidly fades, "But, what about Henley? She's been dating him for three and a half years. Do you really think you can win her back? Oh, I hope you can! I just love you two together."

I smirk, "In time, Mom. It'll just take some time."

**I hope you guys liked it! Leave yo thoughts, G. haha (;**


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm _so _glad you guys like this! Thanks so much for the reviews and everything! By the way, I have a question, what do think about Angie (Mikayla's mom)? She's definitely going to be more involved in this than in _Don't Forget_, so I wanted to see what you think of her. Okay, now that that's out of the way, go ahead and read on!**

"What are you doing today, Sweetie?" Mom asks as I descend from the staircase.

Wearily, I say, "Well, I—uh, I was going to go out with the guy I met at that store."

A look of bewilderment shows on her face. "What? What happened to Mitchie? I thought you wanted to—"

I cut her off, "Of course I do, Mom, but can't I at least make a new friend?" I walk over to her as she wipes down the countertop. "I have no one and it'd be nice to have someone to talk to if Mitchie and I don't work out."

She stops cleaning and looks up at me. "But you _will_ work out. You said so yourself, that it'll just take time."

I delicately place a hand on Mom's shoulder. "I know, Mom. Can you just—trust me? Please? I'm not going to do anything stupid. I want Mitchie back, but I'd like a friend or two as well. This guy seems genuinely nice, okay? So, please, just trust me for once."

She stares at me, features still and serious. Then, she gently smiles. "Okay, I trust you."

--

"Hey! It's good to see you!" I smile at the mystery guy. "How did you get my number when I didn't even get your name?" I question, sincerely curious.

We met up at this little deli shop, Kachefi's, in the middle of town. Mitchie's mom took us here a few days before she died. I was a little apprehensive about coming here, solely for that reason, but I agreed anyway. I wonder if Mitchie has been here since? Probably not, it was the last place she took us out to before she got in the accident.

I'm pulled from my thoughts when I hear him chuckle then speak, "Oh, I—uh, I asked around. Apparently, a lot of folks around here know of you. I'm surprised I don't already, I've lived here for, like, three years." He rubs the back of his neck and gestures with his other hand.

"Oh, well, actually I just moved back here from Toronto. I used to live here, but... uh, I—I had to move in with my dad for awhile."

He nods understandingly, "Yeah? Why, if you don't mind me asking?"

I glance away, looking over at the girl at the counter, then back at him. "Um, you know, I'm not too comfortable talking about it just yet." I don't want to freak him out. If I told him that I had to move because I was dating a girl? _And_ the fact that it wasn't just any girl, but _the _Mitchie Torres, who was also my best friend since we were, like, seven? Yeah, don't think that would blow over easily.

"Oh, it's cool. I understand completely. We should probably order our sandwiches though."

I nod in agreement. We get through the lunch, just talking and eating, an occasional laugh every so often. He was a fun guy. And he really _was_ nice. He told me that he went to college up by the beach. He's twenty-six. He has a Yellow Lab named Yoshi. He named the dog Yoshi because he found him chewing on a Yoshi slipper in an alley by a thrift store. I was in awe of this guy. He's never broken up with a girl, either. He says he gives his heart and soul to a relationship, but every girl breaks up with him for someone new.

He's perfect. Great _friend_ material. He gets up and stretches before coming to my side of the table and helping me out of my seat. _Such _a gentleman! I think I just swooned...

We're standing outside Kachefi's, just about ready to part ways. "I had a great time with you, Mikayla." He smiles shyly. I feel the heat rising to my cheeks and I bite my lower lip. "Maybe we can do this again sometime?"

I nod, "Yeah, sure... I'm sorry, I still didn't catch your name."

"Oh! Sorry. It totally slipped my mind. Henley." He extends his hand formally.

"Nice to have dined with ya, Henley." Wow. That name has been pretty common these past few days. Mitchie's loser boyfriend and this _gorgeous_ boy in front of me. I lean in to kiss his cheek, but he turns and I meet his lips. At first, I'm shocked, but I ease into it anyway. He tastes like Mountain Dew. Weird, but also enticing. Our lips move rhythmically for a few seconds before slowly pulling away. I didn't even realize I closed my eyes until I opened them.

"Woah. I normally don't do that. I just feel... _really_ attracted to you." I'm a still little stunned from the kiss only moments ago. "I—uh, hope I didn't freak you out or anything—"

"No, no! I'm good. It's good. We're good."

"Alright, well, _good. _So, I'll see you around." I nod and we part our separate ways.

As I head to my car, I replay the lip action that just happened. Now that I think of it, it was kind of awkward. I should've pulled away. I can't go around kissing people I just met if I want back with Mitchie! Oh, God! And if Mom finds out?! Three words: Hell. To. Pay. She will rip me a new one. I told her it was strictly platonic, and after that mishap, I have a feeling he's thinking otherwise. Shit, I'm screwed. No, you know what? No, I'm not. As long as I don't tell anyone and he doesn't, then I'm good. You're good, Mikayla. It's all good.

--

I was sitting at home, after dinner, chatting with my mom when an idea for a date struck me. "Hey, Mom, I heard the carnival started today. Do you—"

"Oh, I'd love to!"

"—think Mitchie'd want to go?"

"Oh. Uh, right. Why don't you call and ask her?" I felt bad for not asking my own mother to go, but I had a girl to win over.

I left my mom in the living room and walked upstairs to change. I decided just to go comfy-casual. No sense in getting dressed up when the carnival's outside set up on dirt and grass. Plus, if Mitchie doesn't want to go with me, I _could_ always go with Mom.

I sat in my desk chair and dialed Mitchie's number. It rang quite a few times and as I was about to hang up, she answered, "_Hello?_"

"Hey, Mitchie. I was, uh—I was wondering if... maybe you'd like to go with me to the carnival?"

A moment passes and I'm afraid she's going to say no and that she's got plans with her boyfriend already. "_Sure! When, exactly?_"

"Awesome. I was thinking, like... right now? I could come pick you up?"

"Y_eah, that sounds great! I'll see you in a few_." We say our goodbyes and I rush downstairs to tell Mom.

"She said yes!" My mom turns around, facing me while I stand behind the couch.

"That's great, honey! You'll have her back in no time!"

The thought crosses my mind briefly. Having Mitch back, all to myself. I'll give her everything she wants, anything she could ever ask for. Then I realize, "Mom? Can I borrow some money for tonight? I haven't exactly gotten a job yet..." I ask sheepishly.

She smiles knowingly. "My purse is on the table."

--

"Yeah, _and_ I found out he went out with some _girl_ today! What the hell is that?" Mitchie was telling me about her dense boyfriend at the moment. He sounds like an ass from the way she describes him. "I mean, seriously. What the fuck? _Everyone_ knows we're together, who would go out with him knowing that? Ugh! I'm so angry with him!"

We got here about fifteen minutes ago, and she's been talking about her boyfriend since she got in the car. I've decided not to call her boyfriend Henley. My Henley is kind and sweet and seems nothing like her Henley, so I just can't bring myself to call him by his name. I just can't do it. I stop Mitchie from walking further and turn her to face me. I pull her into me and place one hand on her lower back and one a little higher up. Gazing into her eyes, I whisper, "I want to take your mind off of him. I want you to have fun. Let yourself be mine tonight."

Mitchie lets out a shaky breath and nods slowly. I smile softly at her and pull away. Before she's entirely out of my grasp, I link fingers with her, loving the warm feeling in the pit of my stomach.

--

After Mitchie winning at the booth games, going through the House of Mirrors four times, and stopping constantly for her to sign autographs for tourists, she's finally dragged me to the ferris wheel. At last, some alone time! Well, we've been alone this whole time, but I want alone time to talk. The guy loads us in and tells us not to rock the cart, throw things, or spit on people. Mitchie audibly ew-ed at the last one. Charming man he is.

It starts moving, only to be stopped soon after. "Why do people constantly have to be getting on and off? That's always annoyed me."

Mitchie smiles fondly, "I know it has." She wraps her arms around one of mine and rests her chin on my shoulder. "Remember when we came here when we were fourteen? You said the same thing then."

I think for a second, trying to remember, but failing miserably. "I did?"

She chuckles, "Yeah. _And_ you're the reason why they have the no spitting rule. You spat on my crush at the time, Erik Nichols, _just_ because he shouted that he liked me back." We share a laugh as I recall that specific memory. "He never talked to me after that. Poor guy had Mikayla saliva in his eyes."

"Hey, now. He deserved every ounce of spit I had! _No one_ crushed on _my_ girl. At least not openly like him."

Mitchie lifts her head and stares at me. "We weren't even dating back then."

"Well, yeah, but, in my head we were already married."

She smiles wildly and shakes her head at me. "You're somethin' else."

It's quiet for what seems like forever until I say, "I really am sorry about everything that I said that day, Mitch. I couldn't have been further from the truth."

Studying me, she asks, "What're you saying?"

"C'mon, Mitch. You're a smart girl, you know _exactly_ what I'm saying." I take her hand in mine, tangling our fingers together.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're still in love with me." She grins. "And I'd have to say that I feel the same."

I sense my self blushing and beaming and I can't keep my eyes from wandering to her lips. I slowly lean in and she meets me, out lips colliding in the middle. My heart beats faster and I can feel it. _Pounding_ and _banging _against my chest. My palms are sweaty and I'm running out of air, but I push further. My tongue grazes her lip, _begging _and absolutely _pleading_ for entrance into it's very own heaven. I want it. I want it _so _damn bad. I need it.

But she pulls away, "I can't. I'm so sorry. I'm with Henley. I can't do that to him."

And I feel my heart break. It hurts. It fucking hurts _so_ much, I could cry right here, right now. But I pull myself together. "I'll fight for you, Mitchie. I'll do whatever it takes."

She looks at me and quietly says, "I know you will."

**So did I do okay? Are you guys enjoying this? I really liked writing this chapter, so I hope you guys like it! Oh, and don't forget to answer the question about Angie (if you review, that is)! Thank you so much! (:**


	5. Chapter 5

**Woo, chapter five! Thank you all so much for reviews. To hear what you all think is so great, I can't even express it though words, so thank you again! (:**

"I just—I don't know how to make her come back to me." It's been a week since I last saw Mitchie. She was heading out to a photo shoot and stopped by my house for a few minutes. She was telling us how she and Jessica's friendship was on the rocks because Jessica was moving and apparently going to be really busy. Whatever, never cared for the girl anyway. Just not my cup of tea.

"Well, Mikayla, you're going to have to show her how much you care. Things like—" I drown out my mother's cliché ideas; flowers, cards, and candy. I'm not trying to get her to be my Valentine for a day, I'm going to need a bigger plan. It's going to have to be _big_. Big enough to steer Mitchie away from her jackass of a boyfriend and into _my _arms. But what would—Aha!

"I could break them up!" It would be hard, but I'll do anything. I'm going to need help though, another brain.

"Sweetie, I don't think that's such a good—"

"You'll help me right, Mom?" I throw out my best puppy-dog look.

She sighs heavily, "What do you need me to do?"

--

"Okay, let me see if I got this. I call this girl, Haley, and tell her to go into the store where Henley works, she asks him out on a date. You take Mitchie out on a date at the same time Haley takes Henley. Mitchie sees Henley on this _date_ and flips out, dumps him, and runs to you? Is that right?" Mom and I are sitting in Starbucks discussing my genius plan, as I like to call it.

"Yes, that's about right. What do you think?"

"You know, I can still call the flower company..."

"Mom! Flowers aren't going to cut it. I _have_ to do something drastic. She's not going to break up with him for someone who broke her heart before. She won't do it, I know her."

"Fine, I'll do it." I squeal and hug my mom from across the table.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Mom nods and gently smiles. "Who's this Haley girl anyway?"

"Oh, just an old friend from high school. I helped her out of a... _predicament_ one time, so she sort of owes me."

--

It's all set up. In two weeks, Mitchie will be _all_ mine and we'll live happily ever after. Okay, I'm not going to lie... I feel a _little_ bit evil for doing this to her. But all is far in love and war.

In the meantime, I'll be trying my best to sweep Mitchie off of her over-worked feet. I've rented some of our favorite scary movies from when we were younger, hopefully she's home. I pulled out my cell as I walked out the door. It rang a few times. "_Hey, you!_"

Her cheery voice brings a smile to my face. "Hi. What're you doing right now?"

I hear muffled noises in the background. "Oh, I just got done cleaning my bathroom."

"Perfect. I'll be over in ten."

"But—I'm a mess!"

"Then hop in the shower... and leave the door unlocked, just in case you're not out before I get there." She complies and we hang up.

Mmm... Mitchie in the shower... No, no, no. I do _not_ need a clouded mind when I'm walking at night. But she's _so_ hot. And tan! She's been tanning! And she died her hair a darker brown a few days ago. I could just... oh, man. She looks _so good_, so... _delicious_. Stop! No need to get all hot and bothered.

I make it to Mitchie's without my brain going into overload of thinking about her lathering up. I twist the door handle, to my surprise, she actually left it unlocked. I hear the shower shut off as I put my jacket on the coatrack. "Mik?" I hear her echo from the bathroom. I set the movies on her coffee table.

"Yeah?"

"Can you—um, bring me a towel from the linen closet? First door in the hallway."

I roamed around in her loft, looking for the closet. After finding it, I grabbed Mitchie a purple towel. As weird as it seemed and _felt_, I smelled the purple cloth. It smelled just like Mitchie does, vanilla.

I searched for Mitchie's room, hoping to find the bathroom she was in. "Mitch?"

"In here!" I hear her voice coming from behind me. I turn around and see _the door. _The door that's the only thing separating me and naked Mitchie. Oh, how I'd love to see naked Mitchie. That'd be the highlight of my week. Hell, probably my _life_. The door pops open and her head pokes through, her hair dripping onto the spotless carpet. "Hey, Mik." Cue my mind into the metaphorical gutter. I stand still, silent. Mitchie's in front me. Naked. Well, there's still the door blocking her, but if opened even a little bit more, I'd see some naked Mitchie. I like naked Mitchie. "Can I have that towel? It's a little chilly in here." Chilly Mitchie? That means her nipp— "Mikayla? You okay? You look a little... sweaty."

I clear my though audibly, "No, I'm fine." She sticks her arm out of the door, outstretched for the material in my grasp. Oh, God. Her—her ass, it's—I can see it! In the mirror! I think I'm going into cardiac-arrest. I hand her the object of her desires and tell her I'll be waiting in the living room.

I saw her _ass_! It was right there! It was taunting me, I know it. This is going to be a long, _frustrating_ night, if you know what I mean.

--

Mitchie's lying lazily on one end of the couch and I'm sitting upright on the other. "God, I'm so tired. I think I'm gonna go." Luckily, after seeing a few gory dead bodies, I didn't have the tension in the nether region any longer.

"What? No, don't go... Please stay?" How could I refuse her offer? Oh, that's right I can't and I don't want to. I smile and nod. "It'll be just like old times! Come on, I'll give you a change of clothes." She grabs my hand, dragging me out of the dark living room.

I change into the shorts and v-neck she lent me while she was using the restroom. When she finishes, she pulls me into the bed with her. "I'm so happy you're back." She tells me.

"Well, I'm glad to be back."

Mitchie adjusts herself so that her head is resting on my shoulder and her arm around my waist. "I missed you. When Angie told me you were moving back, I didn't believe her at first." She laughs quietly and adds, "I was nervous about seeing you. Bumping into you somewhere or something. I even avoided Henley for a week because I kept getting all these feelings pouring out. It wasn't fair for him, but I had to." I kept quiet, partly because I was still processing her little confession, and partly because I had no idea what to say to all of it.

I did what I thought was best for the situation. Pretend to be asleep. We laid there, her breathing evened out as did mine. I heard the faintest of whispers, "I shouldn't, but I still love you, you know." _I love you too!_ I wanted so badly to scream out to her, but I was _sleeping_. I love you too, Mitchie.

--

"Spend the day with me?" I ask, my voice full of hope.

We're sitting in IHOP eating breakfast. Well, _Mitchie's_ eaten—practically inhaled—her breakfast. I'm kind of just pushing eggs around on my plate. She looks hesitant. "I don't know... I'm supposed to hang out with Henley, it's his only day off this week." God, I hate that guy.

"Just—just tell him you're going to be busy with press or something." The waiter brings the check to the table and I pay for Mitchie and I, courtesy of Mom's wallet. I _really_ need to get a job.

"But that's lying. He'll be really pissed if I lie and he finds out."

"You've got to be kidding me. Who cares? The guy is an ass, in my opinion."

We stand from the table, stretching and grabbing our belongings. "You don't even know him." Looping her arm through mine, Mitchie leads us out of the restaurant.

"Well, that may be true, but from what I've heard... you can do better." The breeze hits our faces in a refreshing manner, calming and soothing.

"Oh? Anyone in mind?" Mitchie asks with a flirtatious grin.

"Me." I smirk and she playfully smacks my arm. "Come on, Mitch, hang out with _me_. I, after all, knew you first. I deserve the most attention." She smiles at my lame puppy-dog face.

"Fine, fine. I'll call him."

--

This girl never ceases to amaze me. She's helping my mom with some Photoshop thing for a shoot she did the other day, and Mitchie is like a pro. If I tried to help, I'd screw the whole thing up. There's so many buttons and drop-down lists and—it's just inevitable. They're talking about concerts and maybe a tour soon, interviewers and how they always ask the same things—'How's the love life?', just talking. She smiles and chuckles genuinely at something Mom said, and I can't help but feel I don't deserve that smile or laugh.

She's the sweetest person I've ever known and I feel terrible about the way she must have felt when I left or when she was writing those letters that I hadn't received.

--

"Are you sure you have to go?"

Mitchie slips her coat on and reaches for the door handle. "Yeah, it's like, ten o'clock and I have to feed Joe."

"Joe?" I walk outside with her. She stops before descending the porch steps and turns around.

"Yeah, he's my goldfish. Henley won him at the fair last year." I cringe at the thought of him trying to act manly at some booth game, Mitchie latched onto his arm. Gross.

"Oh, how lovely." I fake a smile and fight the urge to roll my eyes.

To my surprise, Mitchie leans in closely, wrapping her arms around my neck and hugging me tightly. I relished the moment, truly not wanting her to leave. She pulls away enough to lightly peck my lips. "What was that for?" Not that I minded, just generally curious.

"Just a thank-you-kiss. You know, for today and yesterday. Sometimes it's nice to just... _hang out_ with a friend." I smile and nod.

--

The two weeks had flown by relatively quickly. I'd went out with Mitchie often, she had dinner with Mom and I a few times. I even sent her flowers, to which she gladly accepted and called me right after she received them.

"_You're so sweet, Mik! I love them!" _She had told me, sincerely thrilled to have gotten such an arrangement.

I was currently on my way to pick up Mitchie for our date. She doesn't _know_ it's a date, but I _do._ I drove my mother's car to Mitchie's loft and parked. As I ascended the outside staircase, I tried to calm my nerves. Tonight's the night. I knocked once; twice. I waited patiently before the door swung open. She looked stunning, but that's not unusual. "You look gorgeous, Mitchie." She thanked and complimented me as we got into the car.

I'm feeling more and more guilty as we near _Tony's Spaghetti._ Mitchie had the radio on, so thankfully, there wasn't much talking. I think I could've spilled the beans if we held a conversation.

When we arrive at the small bistro, I tell the hostess of our reservations and she seats us toward the back. I made sure to get here before Haley appeared with Henley. They should be seated a few tables in front of us, if Haley told me correctly.

Our waitress comes and takes our order, talking in an overly-friendly manner. Once she leaves, Mitchie and I slip into an easy discussion. She tells me of how she wants to put her career on pause and go to college. "I say why not? It's not like you don't have the money, and I'm sure you have the grades and test scores. You're a smart girl, you'd get accepted anywhere." She smiles, but stays silent. "What?"

She shakes her head amusingly. "You're such a charmer. Always layin' it on thick."

The waitress brings out our food. I share a small smile with her. "I just tell the truth. You _are_ smart. And you're beautiful, and you're kind; the most thoughtful person I know. You—you give _so_ much and never ask for anything in return."

By now, she was blushing profusely. "Mikayla, I—I don't even know what to say."

I grin, knowing I've embarrassed her. "You don't have to say anything, just enjoy your meal."

--

"Oh, my God, I'm so full." Mitchie takes one last sip of her drink, finishing it off. I've paid for the bill and now it's time to _accidently_ run into Henley and Haley on their date. I stand up first, subtly motioning for Haley to put the plan in action. She nods and leans across the table to kiss the creep.

Mitchie stands, looping her arm through mine as I direct us to the exit. I slow down when we're behind them. "Haley?" She pulls away.

"Mikayla?" She says, pretending.

"Henley?!" That was Mitchie.

He turns around, facing us. Henley?! _My _Henley?! _Him_? He kissed me! That creep! "Mitchie?"

"Henley?" I ask, not believing it's the same guy. My Henley was so sweet. This can't be right.

He looks at me, "Mikayla?"

Mitchie pipes in, "You guys know each other?"

Haley asks loudly, "What the hell is going on?!"

Hell if I know. I'm just as confused as you, Haley. Mitchie turns to leave saying, "Nothing. I'm out of here."

Cheating Boyfriend yells for Mitchie to stop. "Wait! Just—just wait!" God, what have I gotten myself into? "I was going to ask you to marry me!"

She turns around slowly. "What?"

I felt my heart drop to my stomach. What the _fuck_ did he just say? "I'm going to be sick."

**So, I tried to go for a longer chapter since they're generally pretty short. It's not _that_ much longer, but I tried. I wanted to stop it here, so... yeah. Hope you liked it! Review if you feel so inclined. (: Oh! And I was going to say something else... You all (well, most at least) like Angie, so that's great. Thank you! **


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello...? Anyone still reading this? I hope there's at least a few of you left, patiently awaiting. (: Thank you _all_ so much for reading and reviewing. It's so wonderful to hear your thoughts on the story. **

"I—I was going to ask you to marry me, Mitchie." Henley says again, making me feel _twice _as nauseated. He steps away from the table for two, closer to Mitchie.

She's still standing there, a look of woe etched in her features. Her eyes pass from Haley, Henley, and I, and back again. Shaking her head, she says, "How could you ask me that? How—how could you stand there and _propose_ to me right after kissing some girl?" She carefully walks closer to the three of us.

Henley is baffled momentarily, but soon regains composure. "Mitchie, I can change! I love y—"

"And _you_!" She interrupts, looking at me. "You have something to do with this, Mikayla. I know you. I know you all _too_ well. You thought you could break Henley and I up so you could step in! You know this girl, Harriet—or whatever the _hell_ her name is—"

In the background I could hear, "It's Haley..." She raises her hesitant hand, trying to obtain Mitchie's attention.

Mitchie continues, "_Whatever_. The fact is, you know her, Mikayla, and somehow, you know Henley too—which, I'm not even sure I want to know how you guys got reacquainted!" What? _Re_acquainted?

"Wait, _what_?" He asks, sounding like a dumbass. Although, I must agree, I have no idea what she's talking about.

"Don't you guys remember anything?" We shake our heads, including Haley, who's still sitting at the table, trying to include herself. "God, you guys are idiots." When did she get so... mean? Oh, right. Probably when I deliberately showed her that her boyfriend was making out with 'some girl'. "Henley, Mikayla was my best friend those some odd years ago when we met for the first time." He squints, trying to remember such events. "And Mikayla, Henley was Derrick's old roommate."

Oh, my God. I cooked him food that one night! He watched a movie with us! "What happened to you? Why are you such a _prick_ now?" Henley scoffs at my words.

"I'm not a prick! And_ excuse me_, but _you're_ the one who started flirting with me—while I was working, I might add!—so, apparently, I'm not _that_ much of a prick!" By now, everybody in _Tony's Spaghetti_ was staring. This is so embarrassing. Not to mention confusing. I'm sure Mitchie's head is spinning right about now.

I see the manager approaching us. He quietly tells us, "Sorry to interrupt, but you guys need to leave. You are disturbing our other customers."

--

As soon as we're all outside, Mitchie starts yelling. "I can't believe you two! _You _cheated on me, and _you_ made sure I saw it—for selfish reasons!" I can see her eyes tearing up. She doesn't deserve this. Any of it. "As of right now, I'm not agreeing to marry anybody."

I subtly pump my fist out in front of me and let out a whispered, "Yes!"

Mitchie turns her gaze to me. "And I'm not talking to, or dating, anybody." No! I hang my head, quickly feeling dejected and greatly ashamed of myself. "Just one question before I go... How could you guys do this to me? You both say you love me, but you sure as hell don't show it." I feel my own tears building. How _could _I hurt her like this? She gives one last distressed look to us before she turns to walk away. She makes it probably five steps before stopping abruptly, she tells me, "Mikayla, you drove us here. I'll need a ride back home."

I nod and she starts to walk towards the parking lot. I offer a sad smile to Haley then stalk off to catch up with Mitchie. She's waiting for me at the car when I get there. She won't even look at me. I unlock the car and she gets in quickly.

The drive has been silent so far. The only sound are sniffles from crying. _Me_ crying. I wipe the tears from my cheek, hating myself for this whole act. "You know," Mitchie startles me when she breaks the silence, but presses on, "you're not the not the girl I fell in love with. The Mikayla I knew was the sweetest girl I'd ever met. You're nothing like her." Ouch. Right to the heart.

I try to defend myself, "Yes I am. I may have changed a little physically, but I'm the same person from all those years ago. The same girl who still dreams about marrying her high school girlfriend. The same girl who let her best friend capture her heart and keep it. The same girl who _loves _you more than anything else in this _world_." She bites her lip and shifts her gaze to outside the car. "Mitchie, I'm truly sorry for the way things have turned out. You don't deserve any of this. And you were right earlier; You wouldn't do something like this to someone you love. This might sound selfish, but I love you so much, I wanted you to myself again. I don't want to fight for your affection as a friend. I want to _have_ your affection as a lover."

We arrive to the parking lot of her building. She gathers her things together and faces me. "Mikayla, what you did tonight—it was so _stupid_ and _inconsiderate_." I swiftly wipe another tear. "I love you, Mikayla, I do. But I don't know how I'm going to choose. Pick someone with _so much_ history, or pick someone who was there for me when my best friend left me. Someone who is self-centered, or someone who's cheated on me. I'm going to need time to think things through." My heart swells at the thought of still having a chance with her.

--

A week passes by, we haven't spoken. The only thing I did was wait by my cellphone and job hunt. I got a job as a columnist for the local newspaper. I announce engaged couples in the upcoming week. The head-honcho's think it brings the community 'closer'. It's not what I want to be writing about, but it puts money into my pocket, I guess.

Back in high school, I never thought I'd want to be a writer, but then, once I left for Canada, it's basically all I did in my spare time. I took a few courses in college, got my master's degree, and Dad finally let me move back out here with Mom.

After I've had a job and a steady income, I plan on starting my first novel; hopefully, Mitchie will be by my side through it all.

--

Two full weeks since that horrible night. After seeing me mope around the second week, Mom finally asked me, ever so kindly, what was wrong with me.

_I had been sitting at the counter for almost an hour, reading one of my old Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul IV_ _books. I like to read the depressing stories when I'm sad; Mom knows this. She descends from the staircase, newspaper in her grasp. I glance over at her to see her coming my way. She stops right beside, I continue to read. _

_Next thing I know, I'm being hit upside the head with the newspaper. "What the hell are you doing?!" I shriek, clearly caught off guard._

"_What the hell am _I_ doing? _You're_ the one who's been walking around here like the undead for days! What the hell are _you_ doing?" She asks, putting her hands on her hips after using different hand gestures to emphasize her point._

"_I—um, the plan didn't work out too well, Mom. Mitchie—she found out I had set it all up and..." I proceeded to tell her everything that happened that night in the restaurant. I left out our conversation in the car, except that Mitchie said she'd need so time to think about who she'd choose. _

"_Oh, Mikayla, I don't want to say it—"_

_I swiftly cut her off, "Yes. Yes, you do, Mother."_

"_Okay, so I do. I told you so! I knew something would go wrong, I told you. I said, 'Why not just get flowers?' or something, but you, my child, are very stubborn." She rubbed my back, trying to seem soothing, but it just stressed me out more._

"_I know, Mom. Trust me, I know." _

Currently, I'm at work, overlooking the sheet of couples intending to marry.

**Greg Alpine and Lisa Terrance**

**Wesley Ceeden and Patricia Lauren**

**Guy Currey and Danielle Parks**

**David Jacobs and Miley Rance**

**Henley Nole and Mitchie Torres**

**Tyler Opper and Rachel Thompson**

**Reggie Strewford and Celine Gonzales**

Looks like I got everyon—"What?!" I exclaim loudly in my small cubicle. I scan the list again. **Henley Nole and Mitchie Torres**. "What the fuck?" She said yes and didn't even tell me?

"New Girl, watch your mouth, my kids are here!" I look over to the man with his kids and mouth and apology.

I read their names again. I can feel my chest start to tighten, my breathing become heavier. Before I know it, the handwritten notes are being smudged by my droplets of tears. "You okay, neighbor?"

I attempt to see who's talking to me, but my vision is blurred. I shake my head to whoever it is. "How—how could she do this? How could sh—she choose _him _over m—me? And—and then not even tell me about it!" I feel a warm hand on my shoulder, sort of rough, but warm none-the-less. It must be Stephen, the guy in the cubicle in front of mine.

"Hey, it's going to be okay." He says, quietly. "You wanna get out of here? I'm the boss' nephew, he can't fire us." I solemnly nod.

--

"She's the only person I've ever loved. Why didn't she tell me?" I inquire, as if he knew the answer.

I'm sitting with Stephen—or Steve, he told me to call him Steve—in a quiet hole-in-the-wall coffee shoppe. We've been discussing Mitchie, and surprisingly, he's never even heard of her. Has he been living under a rock or what? Anyway, Steve's also told me about his lost love, Emily. She left their three year relationship for some guy she met online. "Maybe she was afraid of how you would react." We've been talking long enough for me to know that Emily missed out; he seems like quite the catch.

"I would be okay with it." He gives me a raised eyebrow. "Eventually."

"That's what I thought. Look, Mikayla, you've got to talk to her. Don't let her slip away," He slightly raises his voice, hoping to enthuse me, I assume. "Fight for your woman!"

--

She's been calling all night. Well, not _all_ night, but three times. I haven't answered because I'm afraid of how the conversation would go. Probably something like this:

"Hello?"

"_Hey, Mikayla! Finally, you answered. I've been needing to tell you something._"

And then I'd wait for the ball to drop and shatter my already-broken heart.

"_I choose Henley. I'm sorry. We can still be friends."_

Bullshit. You can never be _just_ friends with an ex. It's, like, the law.

She calls for the fourth time. I muster up enough courage to answer. "Hey." I say curtly.

"_Jesus! I've been calling you for over an hour!_" She sounds annoyed with me. I'm the one who should be annoyed here, not her.

"Yeah, well... I've been busy." That's right, I lied. "Working." And another. "For the paper. I'm a columnist now." Alas, a little truth in there.

"_Oh, Mik, that's gre—_"

Before she finishes, I blurt out, "I announce engagements."

She's silent for the longest time, it almost kills me. Luckily, I had no tears left for today. I let them run free with Steve. He had been so much help. It felt so good to just lay it all out there and talk about everything I've been through with Mitchie. He's a good listener and on his way to being a good friend of mine.

Eventually, Mitchie broke the stillness in our phone call, quietly whispering, "_I—I'm sorry. I was going to tell you._"

"When, Mitchie?" I question. "When were you going to tell me? The day of your wedding with that _douche-bag_?"

"_Mikayla, please. Don't make this harder._" Don't make this harder?!

"Oh, okay, let me make it easier for you. Don't ever call, nor text me again!" I hung up on her, full of rage. I sat there, in my room, for a few minutes. As I cooled off, I called her back. She answered, sniffling. "Okay, this isn't working for me." I hear her laugh lightly. "I'm sorry I did that. I'm just—I'm so angry with you right now."

"_I know you are, you have every right to be, but I can't keep stringing you both along. I had to do what I had to do._" I plop down onto my bed, heaving out a deep sigh. After a few moments in silence, Mitchie tells me, "_I want you to be my Maid of Honor._"

Maid of Honor? I don't know if I can do that. Watching her get married to him, to that—that _fucker_. I can't stand him. I can't be there at that wedding. I won't. I hope she doesn't take it the wrong way, but I just can't. I have to say no. "Mitchie, I..."

**What do _you_ think she'll say? Stand her ground or give in? Stay tuned to find out... hahah. :D Tell me what you think of this chapter, I'd love to hear what you've got to say! **


	7. Chapter 7

**Wow, you guys make me smile so much! The last chapter received so many reviews, I was pretty shocked. Thank you! I'm happy to see this story has some brought out at least some type of emotion in some of you.**

"Mitchie, I... I just—I can't. I can't be your Maid of Honor." I breathe out honestly.

"_Of course you can't._ _Don't even know why I asked..._" Is she _trying_ to make me feel bad? God, this is so fucked up. The emotional roller-coaster that I've been riding with the girl on the other end of the line, it's too much. I don't know if I'll be able to handle much more of this. I want it all or nothing.

"You can't have your cake and eat it too, Mitch." I tell her softy, not wanting to upset her with high volume. As much as I want to hate her right now, I can't bring myself to hate someone so wonderful. She's only doing what she thinks is best for herself, I'm not going pin it against her.

Unexpectedly, I hear beeping in my ear. "_What is that?_" I hear her ask as I check the screen on my phone. Steve's calling. We exchanged numbers earlier so that we could talk more.

"Stephen's calling, hang on a second, okay?" She asks who Stephen is, but I click over without answering. "Hello?"

"_Hey, Mikayla. I was just wondering how things went with Mitchie?_" Wow, that's really nice of him to call and check up like that.

I smiled, though he couldn't see me. "Hi, Steve. And actually, I—I'm on the phone with her right n—"

"_Oh! Don't let me interrupt! Go talk to her. What do you say we meet for coffee, same place, before work? You can tell me all about what happened_." I chuckle at his curiosity about my phone call with Mitchie, and quickly agree before hanging up and switching back over to the other line.

"Mitchie? You there?"

"_So what did Stephen want?_" She inquires, as if she _knows_ Steve.

I humor her and answer the question. "We're just meeting for coffee in the morning before we head to work. He, um—he works with me."

She's quiet for a moment, but says, "_Hm... cool. What coffee shop?_"

--

When I arrive at _Coffee Me Crazy_, I notice that Steve's already sitting at a table with his cup. He sees me and smiles, I do the same before ordering a Café Mélange for myself.

"_So_..." He says as soon as I sit down. I assume that he's talking about Mitchie, but I play dumb and act like I have no clue as to what he's referencing to. "The phone call? With Mitchie? How'd it go?"

"Well, she's marrying him, it definitely wasn't a typographical error." He offers a sad smile as if to say, 'I know how you feel, I'm sorry.' and it makes me feel a little bit better. "Oh! And you know what the best part is? Just guess." Before he even gets his first thought out, I blurt, "She asked me to be her Maid of Honor! I mean, what the _hell_ is her problem?" I pause, catching my breath. "Why doesn't she get it?" My voice was getting softer and her could tell that I was about to break.

Steve covers my hand that had been resting atop the table with his own. He looks at me with hopeful eyes. "Mikayla, you're one of the few people I know who isn't bitter, or harsh, or rude. You still believe in happiness and love. I know you do, I can see it in your eyes, as cliché as it sounds. I want to help you... You deserve to keep the one thing people search their whole lives for; love." I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. "I don't want you to turn into one of those people who hates the world for what you've lost."

I smile, and a tear slips. "Thanks, Stephen. It means a lot, really."

He stands up, gesturing for me to do the same. When I stand, he pulls me into a huge bear-hug. The kind that comforts you, but doesn't suffocate you. It feels nice. Stephen's a really good guy, and I'm glad that we got the chance to become friends in only twenty-four hours.

I cling to his lavender button-up shirt, not wanting to let go of the safety I feel with him. Like everything will get better if he's around. When he says that everything will work out, that everything will be okay, I believe him. I feel a certain connection with him, like we've known each other for years, and I think he gets it. I think he feels it too.

We part slowly, he looks at me with a devilish grin. "I've got a plan that will make it all better..." He begins to tell me his _brilliant _idea.

--

"Dinner at my house, six o'clock! Remember that!" I yell over my shoulder to Stephen as I headed for the elevator.

"Got it!" He screams back as the doors begin to close.

I whip out my cell and dial my mom's cell. "_Hey, Sweetie!_" I quickly inform my mother that we'll have three extra guests for dinner. It's three in the afternoon, and Steve gets off hour later than I do. Mitchie was probably out doing wedding related things—God only knows what brides go through—hopefully she could come.

I hung up with my mother and dialed Mitchie's number. "_Hey!_" She answers, sounding like she just ran a marathon.

"Hey... What're you doing at six tonight?"

"_Oh, uhh... Henley and I were just going to—_"

"Well cancel all of your plans! You an—and _Henley_ are invited to have dinner at my house." I tell her eagerly. She complies and we hang up.

Tonight has to be perfect; it has to be _believable_.

--

**What do _you_ think Steve's plan is?**

**And, okay, yes, it's short... BUT! I do have my reasons! One of them being, this chapter is setting up the next—which might be the last—chapter. And the other reason? It will be in... _drum roll, please... _Mitchie's POV! GASP! Dun dun dun! You should be excited, it will be... intense! Hopefully. And it will be up SUPER SOON. Pinky swear. Oh, and I really want to start this new story (Demi/Selena, obvs.) based off of this movie that I _adore _and I think the story could be really cool, so when this one ends, be on the look out for that! All right, I'm going to go now. (: Leave your thoughts!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Eeeeep! Are you ready for Mitchie's take on things? Her point of view? The way she views the world? How she—I think I'll just let you read now. (: I'm not _positive _on this being the last chapter... I guess you'll find out at the end of it.**

"_Mikayla, what you did tonight—it was so _stupid_ and _inconsiderate_." I see her wipe more tears from her distraught face. "I love you, Mikayla, I do. But I don't know how I'm going to choose. Pick someone with so much history, or pick someone who was there for me when my best friend left me. Someone who is self-centered, or someone who's cheated on me. I'm going to need time to think things through." I got out of her car, dabbing at tears of my own._

--

How can I choose between them? My childhood best friend, or my boyfriend of almost four years?

I've been moping around my loft for days. I can't sleep, I can't sing, I can't even write because my mind is too cluttered. I can feel everything in my mind oozing out of my eyes in the form of salty water. I can't stop crying. They say after so long, you eventually run out of tears for awhile; I haven't yet, though, I wish I had.

I can't even remember if I've taken a shower today. Oh well, it's not like I need to impress anyone.

It's on the news and internet blogging sites, _**Mitchie Torres, torn between old lover and current boy-toy? We've got the inside scoop!**_. It's ridiculous, really. Can't people mind their own damn business for once? Supposedly, someone hanging around my loft that night, heard what I had said to Mikayla. Everything is bullshit. The story they told them had so many lies and twist. They made it out as if I were some slut!

But I just don't have enough energy to hold a press conference and set everything straight. I just want to stay inside forever, locked away in my cozy loft... with Henley... or Mikayla. "Damn it! Just pick _one_!" I yell to nobody but myself.

I can't just pick one. Maybe I could move to another country and become a polygamist? Marry them both and not have any problems.

_Yeah, right._

Mikayla would never be okay with sharing. She's always had a problem with it. I remember this one time, back in junior high...

"_Mitch! You can't be serious!" She exclaims, clearly exasperated. _

"_What? She just wants come over and hang out with us!" _

"_Well, I don't want her to. Tell her she can't come." _

_I scoff, placing my hands on my hips—much like when I'm whining at my mom, "Why?" I ask, dragging out the 'Y'. Mikayla knows I would tell the other girl 'No' in a heartbeat, but I just wanted to know why she doesn't want the semi-new girl from school watching movies with us. _

"_Because, I'm you're best friend, and I said so." Mikayla gave me that 'run along and tell her' look._

"_Ugh! Fine. But... why don't you like her?" She was a fairly nice girl, really smart, and funny too. Not to mention, she was prettier than Jenny Sorguard—who was the prettiest girl in the eighth grade._

"_It's not that I don't like her, Mitchie. I simply don't want to share you." I aww'ed and hugged her tightly. _

_I tapped her nose softly and said, "You're so cute, Mik." Then I left to make up some excuse about why I couldn't have anyone over that weekend. _

She was _so_ cute when she wanted me to cancel on that poor new girl. I remember when Henley got jealous of me going on a date with this guy. Henley and I were just friends at the time, but I could tell that he liked me...

_I sauntered into the men's accessories store he worked, feel happy and light on my feet. "Oh, my God! Guess who asked me out!?"_

_I bounce up and down in anticipation, he eyes me skeptically. "Who?"_

"_Wes Canitry!" He looks down at the counter, pretending to be wiping it down. "What's wrong?" _

"_Nothing. Have fun on your date." He, unenthusiastically, tells me. "He's a _great_ guy..."_

"_Okay, you're totally killing my good mood. What is your deal?" _

"_Y—you said that you weren't ready to date when _I_ asked you out, and then, this Wes guy asks you out and you're all giddy about it." Henley doesn't look at me, he just walks around the counter and into the back. I follow him._

"_You asked me months ago! I _wasn't_ ready then! I am now. You didn't ask, he did."_

_He abruptly turns around, facing me. "Mitchie, if you didn't want to date me, all you had to do was say so. I wouldn't have pushed it. You didn't have to make up some li—" _

_I cut him off, bringing my lips to his in a quick kiss. "I do want to date you, I just thought you were over me."_

_He smiles gently, "Never."_

God, he used to be so sweet. The littlest things he did made me smile the most. I miss him. The old Henley, that is. This new one—the one that cheats on me—he's an ass. He's cheated on me before. The first time, it was a _huge_ fight.

"_Henley...?" I called out, walking into his house, a huge birthday cake in my hands. He turns twenty-three today. He told me he was sick, so I thought a surprise visit would do him good. _

"_Oh, God!" I heard, along with moaning and other muffled noises. What the hell is going on?_

"_Henley?" I said, merging closer to his bedroom. _

"_Oh, yeah, baby! Say my name!" What? I push his door open to see him in bed with some girl. They stop rocking when they see me in the doorway. "Mitchie...? What are you doing here?" _

_Tears making their way down my face, I toss the cake on his floor, **Happy Birthday Henley! I love you!**, written in bright red letters. "Happy birthday, asshole. Hope she was good because you won't be getting any from me anymore." _

_I walk out of his house, barely making it out the door before he comes after me. "Mitchie! Wait!" He grabs my arm, turning me around. "Mitchie, I'm sorr—"_

"_No! You don't get to say that! I can't believe you would do this to me!" He looks away from me._

_He whispers,"I'm sorry..." _

"_Sorry for what? Having sex with some slut, or getting caught? Hmm?" When he didn't answer, I added, "Yeah, that's what I thought. I need to get out of here."_

"_No, give me another chance! Trust me!" _

"_How can I trust you when I just walked in on _that_, Henley?! How?"_

"_You just do! I love you!" _

_Neighbors started looking out of their windows, seeing what all the commotion was. "Stop! Just stop! When Mikayla left, I had no one! _No one!_ I trusted you and look at where we are now, Henley! Just look at what you did to us!" _

And it only got uglier from there. Eventually, though, I took him back. The next time he cheated, I was numb to it. I didn't want to fight with him about it. I was about to be going on tour soon, and I didn't want to be emotionally drained. It happened to me before, I didn't want it happening again.

"_You had sex with Jessica."_

"_I—uh," I clear my throat then add, "What?"_

"_You. Had. Sexual. Intercourse. With. Jessica. You didn't wait for me, Mitchie. And you didn't even tell me when you—when it happened. " She had read the letter that came in the mail for me. It was from Jessica, telling me how she was sorry for basically ruining my first time._

_I tried to reason with her, "Mikayla, Sweetie, you don't understand... just hear me out..."_

"_No Mitchie, you don't get it. I tell you everything. _Everything_, Mitch. I mean, maybe if you had told me, I wouldn't be so heartbroken right now, thinking _we _could've shared _our _first time together. I—I don't even know if I want to go there with you. Knowing she's touched you like that." I could hear her barely covered sobs over the phone and it made my own eyes water._

"_Mikayla, don't—don't say things like that. It was a long time ago. I thought if we did have sex, she'd take my mind off of..." I paused for a second, wondering if I should tell her that it was her I couldn't stop thinking about. "You. She knew I loved you and she told me that if I had sex with her, then I would love her, and not you."_

"_So you had sex because you didn't want to love me?" She was everything the wrong way._

"_No! I just—I... I didn't think you loved me too. And I just wanted to love someone who loved me back." I could hear her sniffles as she thinks. "I didn't know you loved me then, Mik."_

"_Well, why didn't you ask?" She's relentless!_

"_Mikayla! I didn't want to risk the best friendship I'll ever have on something so stupid! I didn't want you to freak out." I mean, what the hell kind of question is that?_

"_Oh, so now our love is stupid?! You know what, Mitchie? Maybe we should take a break for awhile and get our thoughts straight." And that's when I broke down. Why wasn't she getting it? I didn't know she loved me too! I swear I would've waited._

"_Mikayla, baby—baby, please!" I stuttered, feeling the lump in my throat grow. "Don't do this to me! To us. I—I'll come home right now if that's what it takes. I'll buy the first ticket home! An—and w—we can talk, Mik." I hoped with all of my heart that she was going to yell, 'Gotcha!' or 'You've just been Punk'd!' "C'mon, Mikayla, just tell me you're kidding and I'll be fine. Please." I whimpered out the last word, hoping she would tell me what I wanted to hear._

"_Mitchie. Stop. You'll come home when your last concert is done, and we'll talk then, okay. Right now, I need to think, and you need to think. So I'm giving us that time." I didn't need time. I needed her. I needed Mikayla._

"_No, I don't need time to know that I made a mistake. And I don't think you do either. Why are you so upset? I—what did I really do wrong? Tell me and I'll fix it." My tears slowed into just a quiver. I tried to think about something I may had done or said or something. Anything._

"_You want to know why I'm upset Mitchie? When we were younger, maybe six or seven? Do you remember the rings we gave each other? The silver ones, with the black cross on the inside?" I hadn't remembered at first, but then I pictured Mikayla and I knew she wore hers on a necklace everyday. Me on the other hand, I hadn't worn it in awhile. Mine was on a chain as well, but my chain broke, and I had yet to get a new one._

"_Of course I remember. What does that have to do with anything?" She scoffed into the receiver, indicating she's pretty pissed that I had no clue as to what the hell she was talking about._

"_Listen, Mitchie, when you remember why we exchanged them, call me. But as of right now, I need to go. If you don't remember by the time your of your last concert, then we'll talk when you get home."_

"_I—okay. I guess that's fair. I'll call you, I promise."_

"_Don't make promises you can't keep." Figures. She would say something like that._

"_Whether or not we're on a break, I love you and can't wait to see you again, Mik." I told her with my utmost sincerity._

"_Yeah." Click._

That fight with her made me so upset that I broke down in the middle of singing that night. It was terrible. It was embarrassing to have my fans see me like that.

--

This is the dumbest way to make a decision, but I've got nothing left to do. It's been almost two weeks and I have to end this misery.

Heads, Henley. Tails, Mikayla.

I toss the quarter in the air, catch it, and cup in onto the back of my free hand, like some kind of professional coin tosser. My nerves dance. My heart palpitates. I slowly lift my hand.

**Heads**.

I guess it's Henley. I feel my stomach drop. I must just be relieved that all of this thinking is over. Yeah, that's it. I'm relieved.

I hit the number three on my speed-dial. "Henley... I accept."

--

I've been calling Mikayla for exactly an hour and twenty minutes. Well, not call after call. I'd call, wait, call, wait, and so on. She still hasn't answered. Finally she does though.

"_Hey._" She says, a smidge of attitude laced in it.

"Jesus! I've been calling you for over an hour!" I didn't mean for it to come out as... rude as it had.

"_Yeah, well... I've been busy._" Busy? Mikayla's never busy. "_Working... For the paper. I'm a columnist now._"

"Oh, Mik, that's gre—" I begin, but she interrupts.

"_I announce engagements._" Fuck. I wanted to tell her in person. I didn't want her to find out like this. Through the Grapevine.

She's going to be pissed if she isn't already. I don't even know what to say to her. What could possibly make her feel better after finding that out? Nothing. I couldn't do anything about it. I had made my choice, and it wasn't her. I'm sorry for that, but she won't care. I tried to sound collected, but I stuttered anyway. "I—I'm sorry. I was going to tell you."

"_When, Mitchie?_" Yep, she's mad. "_When were you going to tell me? The day of your wedding with that _douche-bag_?_" I wince. I hate when she's upset with me.

She can make you feel like the most guilty person in the world, with only a few words. It hurts. "Mikayla, please." I beg, "Don't make this harder."

She huffs, "_Oh, okay, let me make it easier for you. Don't ever call, nor text me again!_" Then, like all those years ago, she hangs up on me with on a _click_. And, like all those years ago, I break down. I sat quietly, crying and sniffling, but my phone rings. I answer, already knowing it's Mikayla by the ringtone. "_Okay, this isn't working for me._" I let a small giggle escape from my tired body, and snuggled closer to the pillow she used when she last stayed in my bed. "_I'm sorry I did that. I'm just—I'm so angry with you right now._"

"I know you are, you have every right to be, but I can't keep stringing you both along. I had to do what I had to do." I hope she understands that I don't want to hurt her. I don't _mean_ to. And I've been thinking... "I want you to be my Maid of Honor." Maybe it will cheer her up that I want her for M.O.H., instead of Jessica.

"_Mitchie, I... I just—I can't. I can't be your Maid of Honor._" She's quiet, I know that she's serious.

"Of course you can't. Don't even know why I asked..." What kind of person asks their ex-girlfriend to be their Maid of Honor? Seriously? I'm such an idiot. No matter what I do, I manage to fuck something up along the way.

"_You can't have your cake and eat it too, Mitch._" Yeah, that's just wishful thinking. A few minutes of silence pass and I suddenly hear beeping. I check my phone, it isn't me.

"What is that?"

"_Stephen's calling, hang on a second, okay?_" Who the hell is Stephen? I started to ask, but she clicked over before I could.

She better not have a boyfriend already. _No! She _can_ have a boyfriend. Because you're getting married, Mitchie. You aren't allowed to say things like that. She doesn't belong to you. Say it with me._ I hear my conscience talking, which is rather odd, but I abide."You're getting married. You aren't allowed to say things like that. She doesn't belong to you." _That's right. She isn't property._ "She isn't property." I tell myself. "Her heart isn't yours anymore, Torres. She's moving on, so should y—"

I hear her fumbling with the phone, "_Mitchie? You there?_" I tried to casually ask about Stephen, just to get a little insight. I guess they're meeting at_ Coffee Me Crazy_ tomorrow morning. I might have to stop by. I heard their coffee is great...

--

God, this is really creepy. I feel like such a stalker. I've been watching them from the bench across the street for about fifteen minutes now.

When I first saw him, I knew that was the guy. He was perfect for Mikayla. He was _very_ attractive. More so than Henley, and Henley's a good looking guy. This _Stephen_ had on a lavender button-up, with black slacks and black dress shoes. He had short blond hair, and a killer smile. The only bad thing I noticed, he _walked_ there. No car? He looked like he had the money to be in a Porsche, but no. He walked.

Then I saw it. He put his hand on top of hers. _They're so dating!_ That thought alone made my blood boil. How could she get over me so quickly? She said she _loved_ me. Last time I checked, it doesn't just go away!

Oh, God. They're hugging! And she looks—she looks happy. She looks genuinely happy. Am I supposed to feel like this? Like I was just hit by a car and my lungs were crushed? I can't breathe. My heart feels constricted.

The tears pour out of my eyes as if they were Niagara Falls, and I rush to my car and speed home.

--

Now, I'm not proud of this, but as soon as I got home, I called Henley over for revenge sex. Thankfully, he had the day off.

He thought it was because I had finally made up my mind and I was '_so happy we're getting married!_', but it wasn't. I was so pissed off and hurt from what I saw at the coffee shop, I needed a release. I took my anger out on Henley. He didn't mind the aggression, but I still feel bad about using him like that.

We had just finished round two, when the phone rang. "Hey!" I answer, somewhat out of breath.

They're hesitant for a second, then say, "_Hey,_" and I realize it's Mikayla that called. "_What're you doing at six tonight?_"

"Oh, uhh..." Henley had actually planned on taking me out to dinner in celebration for the big day. I didn't really feel like going out with him, but, what's a girl to do? "Henley and I were just going to—"

She swiftly intervenes, "_Well, cancel all of your plans! You an—and _Henley_ are invited to have dinner at my house._"

This doesn't sound like a good idea, and I don't think Henley will like me breaking our plans, but I agree anyway.

--

I'm greeted at the door by an over-excited Angie, "Mitchie! Henley! Honey, come in, come in!" She opens the door wider, allowing Henley and I to step inside. She hugs me and kisses my cheek—like she usually would—and then pats Henley's shoulder, sort of like a I-don't-like-you-enough-to-hug-you-but-I'll-be-nice-and-pat-you gesture. "It's so good to see you. It's been, what, two or three weeks?"

I smile at her, missing being around her energy. "Yeah, it's been too long, Ang." She returns the smirk and closes the door.

"So, what's cookin'? It smells great in here, Ms. G!" Henley expresses with sincerity, trying to make conversation. Angie and Henley start talking foods and recipes, while I excuse myself and venture off in search for Mikayla.

I make my way to her room, only to find that it's empty. I decided to wait for her. I know she'll be coming back in here, her phone is on her desk. She always has her phone with her. I sit down on her bed, waiting and waiting, for what seems like hours—in reality, only a few minutes—until she emerges, clad in a terry-cloth towel. "Shit!" Mikayla raises her hand over her heart, and rolls her eyes. "Are you _trying_ to give me a heart attack?" She closes her bedroom door behind her and walks over to her closet.

"As a matter of fact, I am. You caught me." I say, my voice full of sarcasm.

She smirks and shakes her head. "What are you doing here so early? It's only five."

"Yeah, I know. I just wanted... I was just bored." Mitchie, you aren't allowed to'just want to see her',you're lucky you didn't let that slip_._

She gives a nod, "Right. Of course you were." Then, once she's picked out her attire, she drops her towel. That's right. She just—she just dropped it, revealing her naked body only a few steps away.

I feel my eyes bulge out and rake over her body, like she's some type of goddess. Realization hits me, I'm not supposed to be staring at my naked ex right now! I quickly turn my head and place my hand by the side of my face, blocking her from my peripheral view. "Uhh—I—I, um... Sorry." I mutter nervously.

Four years later and seeing her change still makes me nervous as if it were the first day of school again. "It's fine. I'm done." She coos, removing my hand.

We sit in silence. She's zoning out when the doorbell rings. "Mikayla, get the door!" I hear Angie yell, but apparently, Mikayla doesn't, as she's still in her own world.

I groan, heading downstairs to answer the door. "I'll get it!" I shout to Angie, who I assume is getting cleaned up. Henley's watching TV, tuning out everything but.

When I open the door, Stephen stands there, flowers in hand, and huge grin on his face. "Hi." He says all too cheerfully.

"Uhh... hi? Can I help you?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, I'm here for dinner. Mikayla invited me." He walks past me into the house just as Angie and Mikayla both descend the stairs.

"Steve! I was wondering when you'd get here!" Angie pulls him into a hug and kisses his cheek. Woah, woah, woah. What the _hell_ is going on? She only does that with people she likes! She can't possible enjoy this guy's presence, can she?

"Ah, it's always a pleasure to see you, Ang." _Ang_? Who does he think he is? Barging in on my family like this? _They're _mine_, Stephen! You can't have them! _I want to tell him this, but, obviously, that'd make this dinner really awkward.

He moves towards Mikayla next, pulling her into a tight embrace and then handing her the flowers. When she thanks him, she kisses him square on the lips.

This has to stop. I don't think I've been more jealous in my entire life. "_Okay_! Let's eat!" I call out and they pull apart, lucky for him. One more second in that hug and I would've had to deck the guy. No joke. I could already feel my fist balling up.

Everyone sat down at the table and Angie brought out all of the delicious smelling food. She's such a wonderful cook. Mikayla can't even make popcorn without burning it. I chuckle to myself as I'm reminded of the time she'd set off the smoke detectors from burning the popcorn.

--

The dinner was torture. There was lots of kissing, and play fighting, and laughing. So much laughing from everyone but me. Sure, I'd giggle a little here and there, but all in all, I felt terrible.

What had I done? Agreed to marry an idiot and passed up the one girl who I ever truly loved. Fuck my life.

**So, as you can now see, this isn't the last chapter yet. It's eight pages long in NeoOffice, I didn't want to end it with this chapter and have it be _really_ long, so it'll probably be ending in about one or two chapters. I just wanted to give you all an insight on Mitchie's side. Tell me what you thought, you beautiful readers, you! (:**


	9. Chapter 9

**Oh em gee! Look who's back... me! haha (: I hope people are still reading this... After all, this **_**is**_** the last chapter. In Mitchie's POV of course. I felt seeing her side with this chapter would end the story better. As they say in French, ****J'espère que vous l'aimez; or, I hope you like it!**

Today's the day. The day every little girl dreams of. A day of celebration and love. The only day where you can be a total bitch to everyone months prior, and they forgive you because that day you've been planing for, is a day that you and they will never want to forget.

I'm getting married today. I'm getting _married_ to Henley. I'm getting married to _fucking_ Henley.

I just can't even wrap my mind around that sentence. I don't want to get married right now—I mean, I'm twenty-one!—and I _especially_ don't want to get married to _fucking_ Henley. But I have to. Mikayla has found herself someone new. Someone that doesn't call her selfish for wanting to be with me and only me. Someone that obviously cares for her a great deal. It's not that _I_ don't it's just—it's just too late.

Henley came up behind me, rubbing my tense shoulders. I really don't want to be touched right now, but I plaster a fake smile upon my face and play along. "Thanks, Hen. I'm so stressed right now."

"I know, Mitchie. It's an important day, lots of things to stress you out." Yeah, but _that's_ not why I'm stressed, dumbass.

I turn my desk chair around, facing him. "We need to be at the church soon. You should get going."

His eyebrows knit together, "What about you?"

"Angie's picking me up. She's walking me down the isle, remember?"

"Oh, that's right. Well, I guess I'll head out." He leans in to peck me on the lips. It takes almost everything I've got to not move my head away. "I love you." He says as he strides toward the front door of my loft.

I manage to mumble out, "I—uh—you too!"

_Things will get better, right? Yes. Once you're married, Mitchie, all will be well. _

I just need to keep that on repeat in my mind in order to get through the day.

_Things will get better, right? Yes. Once you're married, Mitchie, all will be well. _All _will_ be well.

Hopefully, anyway.

--

I slid into the passenger seat of Angie's car. "Hey, Ang."

She pulls me into a one armed hug and kisses my cheek, smiling widely. "Hey, Sweetie. How you holdin' up?"

Again, another fake grin. "I'm doing great! I'm _happy_." It's funny, I don't think I've ever lied to Angie before. She's always been so accepting and caring and kind, I didn't feel the need to. But I guess things change when your whole _life_ is becoming a lie.

--

She took me to get my hair done and the finally to the church where I would become Mrs. Mitchie Nole. Mitchie Nole. _Mitchie Nole_. Mitchie fucking _Nole. _That doesn't flow. Mitchie Torres-Nole. That doesn't work either. Mitchie Gomez.

Mitchie Gomez.

_Mrs. Mikayla and Mitchie Gomez_.

I like that.

I smile softly to myself, but it quickly turns into a frown. _What am I doing?_ She's over me and I need to be over her. I'm getting married in an hour for God's sake!

"Are you alright, Mitch?" Ms. G places a hand delicately on my shoulder.

To lie again, or not to lie again? "I just—no. No, I'm not alright. I'm scared. How do I know if I'm doing the right thing?"

She stands behind me, both hands now on my shoulders. She looks me in the eyes through the vanity mirror. "Well, Mitchie, I guess you just feel it. It's just one of those things. If it's not right, you _know_. When Mikayla's father and I got married, I knew I had made the wrong choice. As bad as it sounds, I should've backed out. I had that feeling, but I ignored it." She pauses, giving a half-smile. "If you have that feeling, Mitchie, don't let it go. Even if it isn't tomorrow or a month from now, you _will_ regret it. It's inevitable."

I nod solemnly and Angie kisses the top of my head. "Thank you. It means a lot to know that you're still here for me."

"How could I abandon you? You're family, whether you're with or without Mikayla."

--

People were starting to pile into the church. Friends of mine, famous and non-famous. I don't have any family here, other than my grandmother. I could see Jessica flirting with one of Henley's groomsmen. She's _so_ going to hook up with him.

As I dash around, adjusting the finishing touches, I push away the thoughts that _aren't_ about Henley; _Will Mikayla be here? She said she would be. Will she have a date? Is she bringing Steve? _

It's not working very well. I can't stop thinking about her.

I want her to be here. I want her to see me getting married, to see me moving on without her by my side.

But then, I don't want that. I don't want her seeing this. I don't want her witnessing the second biggest mistake of my life—the first being letting Mikayla go in the first place. I mean, what the fuck? I could've quit school and chased her to Canada. But I didn't. Because I'm stupid. Stupid. Stupid. _Stup—_

"Mitchie, it's time." Angie says.

I nod nervously. This is it. I apply my _millionth_ fake smile for the day.

_Deep breaths, Mitchie. Deep breaths_. _You can do this. Once you're married, Mitchie, all will be well._

I can hear the pianist begin to play. The music echoing through the halls of the church sounds beautiful. It soothes me a little. Not much, but I'll take what I can get.

Angie grabs my hand and loops it through her arm. "You ready?"

"Definitely."

The doors open, revealing all of the guests; friends and family. They're staring at me, waiting for 'the walk'. I offer them a small smile and Angie leads the way.

When I reach the alter, Henley is grinning widely. It just makes me feel guilty for not really wanting this as much as he does. The Priest—who's actually Henley's father—smiles and begins. "You have come here today, Henley and Mitchie, from your varied life experiences to make public the commitment you have made, each to the other. You come to combine your two separate lives into one. Although you will be sharing one life, never forget, you are two separate people. Cherish and affirm your differences. Love each other. Keep your commitment primary. Together you will laugh and cry, be sick and well, be happy and angry, share and grow. Grow, sometimes together, sometimes separately. But never remain stagnant. Love and life are always changing, always new. If you will insure a healthy lasting marriage, always, always value each other. Although you will disagree, remember to respect each other's feelings, needs and wants. And above all, never, never lose your sense of humor."

Way to pile it on, Pops. He continues on, but I drown him out. I look to the first row of guests. Angie's sitting alone. _Where's Mikayla? _I can't believe she didn't show. How could I think that after everything, she'd still come to my wedding? Before I knew it, tears were just pouring out of my eyes. I have to keep wiping my cheeks. I'm so grateful I have water-proof mascara on.

"Mitchie? Do you take Henley Nole to be your lawfully wedded husband?" I look up at Henley and he nods encouragingly.

Thoughts swarm my head,_ maybe it's not too late, _and I stutter out, "I—I can't do this. I'm sorry, Henley, but I can't give you my heart when someone else already has ahold of it." I turn to everyone, "I'm sorry, but I just can't."

Next thing I know, I'm kicking off my heels and bursting through the doors of the church. I'm running as fast as I can, people stare with looks of wonderment, but I don't care. I need to get to her.

I sprint with all my might for two whole blocks. My feet are killing, but it'll be worth it. It _has_ to be.

--

I'm on her porch, sweaty and exhausted, second-guessing my decision.

Do I knock first? Should I just leave? Can I just walk in? What if Steve is here? What if she doesn't take me back?

"Screw it." I say, rising my hand to knock. One-two-three. I wait a few seconds before ringing the doorbell. When nothing happens, I repeat the process, only to be left standing there.

I guess it really _is_ over between us. I turn around, preparing to leave and go home to mope, and I hear the front door crack open. "Mitchie?"

Through the small sliver exposing Mikayla, I can see that she has sweats and a baggy tee on. Her hair has gone askew, her eyes are puffy, and her nose is red. From the sound of her voice, I could tell she'd been crying.

I step closer, causing her to step back and open the door fully. "Mitchie, what're you—"

And then I kiss her. But it gets better; she _actually_ kisses me back. I can almost feel the love and passion radiating off of her. "I couldn't do it. I couldn't marry him when I knew I would never be happy unless I was with _you_. I love you so much, Mikayla."

She broke out in the most _real_ smile I've seen all day. "Thank God. I thought I was going to have to come break up your wedding in my sweats and night shirt." We laughed and I pressed our foreheads together. She gave me a quick peck and said words I'll never grow tired of hearing, "I love you too."

**Yaaaaay! It's over, guys. This was indeed the last chapter. I hope you guys enjoyed it! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing this story, I really appreciate the love you showed for it. I hope the ending wasn't too much of a let down. (:**


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